


Half Grace

by alaskacaldwell



Series: Half Grace [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Anal Sex, Angst, Castiel's True Form, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Grace Sharing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Rating: M, Sex, Soul Bond, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-06-04 21:50:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6676660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alaskacaldwell/pseuds/alaskacaldwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean realizes that Castiel wasn't killed in the hunt that Team Free Will barely survive - that the essence that is Cas, is occupying a young human woman who strangely resembles Castiel's previous vessel - Jimmy Novak - Dean's feelings intensify.<br/>When Cas is ambushed by a demon she doesn't instantly see, she is nearly victimized and killed.  In the fray, Dean is badly injured and Cas is jolted by an earth shattering revelation: that while she has held a piece of Dean's humanity ever since she pulled him from Hell, Dean has had half of her Grace hidden in the depths of his soul. With this revelation comes more... Cas is forced from her new human vessel and jolted back into her true form, which is being held captive in a sinister plot against Heaven. With flashes of Cas' vision, Team Free Will gears up to go save the angel that had always saved them... but there's a question hanging in the air that no one really wants to ask: how do you save an immortal, celestial being that can burn your eyes out with a single glance?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Cas is ambushed by a demon she doesn't instantly see, she is nearly victimized and killed. But at the last possible moment, Dean rushes in and struggles with the demon to save her. In the fray, Dean is badly injured and Cas is jolted by an earth shattering revelation: that while she has held a piece of Dean's humanity ever since she pulled him from Hell, Dean has had half of her Grace hidden in the depths of his soul. With this revelation comes more... Cas is forced from her new human vessel and jolted back into her true form, which is being held captive in a sinister plot against Heaven. With flashes of Cas' vision, Team Free Will gears up to go save the angel that had always saved them... but there's a question hanging in the air that no one really wants to ask: how do you save an immortal, celestial being that can burn your eyes out with a single glance?

Chapter 1

There wasn’t room enough to turn in the tight, stinking basement; only a rusted labyrinth for the Winchesters to navigate blind, hoping to hell, or maybe something better, that the alpha wasn’t as smart as they knew it could be.  
Dean knew these hunts always went to shit. The higher the stakes were, the more their chances of success plummeted. Right now, Dean didn’t – couldn’t – think about what was at stake. Tightening his grip on the silver knife, he pressed his back against the wall and prayed again, even though he couldn’t remember anymore what he was asking for. And he sure as hell was sure no one was listening.  
Bobby’s old piece of crap car roared onto the drive outside, and within moments, the place would be sealed off. They’d planned this hunt for nearly a month and even rehearsed it for shits and giggles. It was a crap plan. The chances of them making it out were none to impossible. Just the way the Winchester’s liked them.  
Through the darkness, Dean caught Sam’s lean silhouette ease through the mounds of molding junk, advancing towards the door that led to the panic room below the basement. It was the only place they hadn’t checked for the monster. It was their only hope, dead or alive. Sam caught Dean’s eye as the abandoned house above them exploded in a series of detonations – Bobby’s meticulous work. Dean nodded once at Sam, already feeling the heat of the fire uncoil in the dirty, subterranean room. This is it… he thought, and broke cover, running full out as the basement door blew apart and flames shot down the shaky wooden stair that was the only exit. Sam was steps behind him. Dean threw his momentum against the locked door; the heel of his boot splintering the wood around the lock. The panic room door flew off its hinges. Dean rolled into the kick and leapt back on his feet, swinging the blade as he took in the room. It was just as bad as the basement, just dustier, and a hell of a lot more bloody. At his shoulder, Sam swung the Colt back and forth as they took in the symbols made in blood covering nearly every inch of the four walls. “What is it?” He shouted at Sam, who was examining a black altar. His brother shook his head and gave Dean that look that made him want to be anywhere else. “What is it, Sam? What does it mean?”  
Sam knelt down and prodded at the remnants of the altar with the barrel of his sawed-off shotgun. “Nothing good,”  
Dean looked around the room. Cas had to be here – all of the signs had led them here.  
“When is shit like this ever good?”  
Sam rose and picked up a piece of paper bookmarking a page in the Book of Shadows used. His eyes skimmed the writing and his forehead wrinkled. Dean felt his pulse jump and a chill spike down his collar. “Cas!”  
Sam went to Dean’s side and they peered into the darkest corner of the room, where a sinisterly stained slab of granite sat, so out of place amongst the grunge, Dean had to look twice to make sure that’s what the damned thing was. Something in him, held its breath. He couldn’t stop staring at that slab that looked a little too wet in the gleam of their flashlights. “Sam, what happened here? What did it do to him?” He tried to keep his voice firm, but, really, Dean wanted to loosen the tight reign he’d been keeping for the past six months – ever since Cas had gone M.I.A...  
Sam’s hand settled on Dean’s shoulder, and his brother’s soft voice filled the hollow silence. “Dean, it, whatever it is, it worked a spell…”  
Dean didn’t take his eyes off of the granite slab.  
All he could think of were Cas’ sea-blue eyes. Of his damned nativity.  
“Half of the symbols are some pretty heavy binding agents.”  
Dean glanced at the sigil looming on the wall beside him, less than an arm’s length away. Drawn in blood… and in the darkest part of his mind, he knew. He knew whose blood had been used to paint the damned walls.  
“Any idea what it was binding?”  
He heard Sam exhale.  
“Yes. There was an angel here.”  
Dean closed his eyes.  
Somehow the Alpha had escaped. It was impossible – they’d covered every exit in and out, salted, pulled iron fireplace screens in front of every door and then blown the damn place apart… and still… No Alpha and too many signs pointing to a dead angel, minus one trench coat clad corpse.  
“These are Enochian, Dean, every one of them. But the thing is, I don’t understand the spell.”  
Dean turned away from the slab to meet his brother’s eyes.  
“What don’t you understand?”  
Sam aimed his flashlight at the darkest wall, the one behind the granite and explained.  
“That one there, from what Cas and Bobby have taught me, that’s not an ordinary symbol.”  
Dean felt rage rising. Why hadn’t the damn bastard come for him? He was the fucking hunter. Not Cas.  
“Then what is it?” He snapped. Overhead, the tell-tale sounds of Bobby digging through the rumble echoed down into the panic room.  
“It means transformation, and that’s a very rough translation. Other than that, Dean, I don’t have a clue.”  
“Sam! Dean! Did you find it?” Bobby called from a hole in the ceiling. Sam went to Bobby and called up the highlights of their discovery.  
Dean started forwards, boots crunching on the rough gravel and broken glass. He held the flashlight high as he came to the slab, sweeping the beam of light over the surface. It was pooled with blood. Dean turned away in disgust. How could he have not figured out this riddle sooner? He took another step, making the turn around the offering table and his foot stepped into liquid. Blood… The flashlight beam shot down, and the black liquid turned a deep crimson. He followed the trail of blood to a bare foot, a slender leg, thighs leading into a very feminine torso. Dean trained his light on the face of the young woman on the floor. Beneath the grime, and the blood, long, black lashes rested against white cheeks. Before the supernatural befell her, Dean would have called her beautiful.  
“Sam!” He yelled, not taking his eyes off of her, “Get over here!”  
Debris crunched as the younger Winchester jogged over.  
“Is she alive?”  
Dean pocketed the silver knife and bent down, ashamed that he hadn’t thought to check for a pulse. The woman’s heart pumped faintly against Dean’s rough fingertips at her throat. Dean pulled his hand back and the girl’s eyes shot open and her mouth opened wide in a very audible gasp.  
Dean jumped back, pushing Sam behind him, some old lesson ingrained in him despite the fact they were well into adulthood. Of course it was Sam that spoke first.  
The woman lurched to her hands and knees and scrambled back away from them. There was wildness in her eyes that hinted at whatever hell the alpha had put her through.  
Sam raised his hands and stowed the gun in his jacket. “It’s okay. We’re here to help.”  
The woman frowned and cocked her head. Unconsciously, Dean mirrored the movements. Her eyes…  
Unable to say why… call it a hunch… Dean knelt down in front of the naked woman. He extended his hand. Sam took a step towards them. “Dean, be careful. We don’t know-“  
The woman looked up at Sam.  
“You don’t know what I’m capable of.”  
Dean glanced over his shoulder at Sam. His brother’s brow was furrowed deep.  
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I was going to say. How did you know-“  
The woman shifted, unaware of her nudity, or uncaring.  
“Because I know you, Sam,”  
Her sharp gaze turned to Dean, and faltered.  
“Dean, I know you warned me not to come, but… I couldn’t let you battle this creature alone. I had to try to help.”  
Dean’s eyes widened. He backed up. It wasn’t possible…  
She trained her deep blue eyes on him.  
“I’m so sorry, Dean. It seems all I’m useful for is inciting chaos.”  
The sound of metal on concrete broke into the moment as a ladder hit the basement floor above them, and a minute later, Bobby made his way over to them. He gazed down at the naked woman.  
“Aw, hell…’  
Both of the Winchesters looked back at him.  
“Hello, Bobby.” The woman spoke weakly.  
Bobby looked around at the bloody symbols on the walls and down at the woman.  
“This changes things.”  
“Just a little,” She whispered, looking down at her body.  
Bobby coughed awkwardly into his hand and slapped both guys on the back of their heads.  
“Are you gonna just let her bleed out, or are one of you idjits going to be a man about this and give her something to cover herself?”  
Half turning, Dean, kept the woman in his sights. “Bobby, we don’t know anything-“  
He pulled off his jacket and shoved past them. “You got that right.”  
He leaned down to the woman and gave her the oil-stained jacket.  
Dean couldn’t stop staring… any more than he could stop the strange suspicions running through his brain. “You mind enlightening us, Bobby? I mean, yeah, she’s hot and all, but we don’t know what the hell she is. For all we know, this could be the damn alpha!”  
Bobby wheeled around on Dean faster than Dean would have thought the old man capable of doing.  
“You idiot… ask her what her name is.”  
The look in Bobby’s eyes was the same one he had whenever he knew Dean was wrong about something and about to find out how wrong.  
Dean threw a glance at the girl.  
“Who are you?”  
She never broke his gaze. She broke something else instead.  
“It’s not who I am. It’s who I used to be.”  
Dean frowned. “Who was that?”  
Her eyes clouded and cleared, never straying from his.  
“I am Castiel.”

 

Dean glanced in the rearview mirror as the Impala tore up the ground towards Singer Auto. He’s said less than five words since they left the hospital, with one patient with bandaged arms and painkillers to last half a month. Dean didn’t bother reading the signs anymore. He just followed the twin red eyes of Bobby’s taillights.  
Sam looked in the mirror at the sleeping woman laid out across the backseat and then over at his brother. “We need to talk about this.”  
Dean tore his eyes off the road to glare at his brother, and mechanically moved them to watch the woman in the back for a touch longer than necessary before returning them obediently to the road.  
“Oh yeah, let’s have a chat about how Cas is now a chick. I can’t wait.”  
“Dean, look, I get that you’re upset about what happened, hell, I am too, but I’m a little surprised that you’re taking this so badly. You should be happy.”  
Dean nodded at the rearview mirror.  
“You telling me I should feel happy about that?”  
Sam sighed. “What I’m trying to say is, I thought you would be happier to find out that Cas is still even alive. After losing that much blood… his… her grace…. I mean, the spell alone was enough to kill her. I don’t understand why you’re so pissed.”  
Dean white-knuckled the steering wheel. “Oh, gee, I don’t know Sam, maybe the fact that I don’t see any part of Cas in that chick has something to do with it. Or maybe it’s the fact he is now a she.”  
Frustrated that he’s unable to articulate his feelings on the matter, and even more frustrated that they are even talking about feelings in the first place, Dean runs a hand through his close cropped hair.  
“When he, when Cas comes back from candy land and the pain meds wear off, how do you think he’s going to feel? His body was stolen from him, Sam, and that’s not even including his grace. What’s sleeping back there is a gender swapped, human, ex-angel, who just lost everything… and I wasn’t there to save him.”  
They slowed down as they entered Sioux Falls.  
“I thought we lost him back there, and I mean for good. No more lives or second chances. Like Dad, and Jo and Ellen. What if… when Cas finds out how much has changed, what if she stops being Cas?”  
Sam gazed out the windshield at the lights of Singer’s Scrapyard coming up on the right.  
“Is that what you’re really afraid of, Dean? Losing Cas? Or is this about Cas losing herself?”  
Dean was quiet all the way until the time they pulled up behind Bobby and parked. He cut the engine and stared unflinchingly into the rearview mirror.  
“Both.”

 

Castiel awoke from the chemical induced slumber to the sound of pages turning and the keys clacking on Sam’s laptop. She ached from head to foot, and not in all of her millennia of memory could she recall feeling so… confused.  
One look around confirmed that they were in the bunker, all four of them.  
Cas watched Bobby scan the pages of tomes thicker than her – now – slender hands. He would take notes, scratch them on a stolen motel notepad, and then return to his reading. He looked ten years older than he did five days ago.  
With effort, Cas turned her head to catch Sam unaware, typing furiously. Every few seconds he’d run his hands through his hair and sigh. Whatever he was looking for, it was clear he wasn’t finding it.  
“You should try to be still, the Coats at the hospital said you have a pretty badass concussion.”  
Cas jumped at Dean’s voice. She couldn’t decipher the tone; it was one she had never heard him use with her before. The chair he was straddling creaked as he rose and came to sit gingerly on the cot beside her.  
He reached out and touched her shoulder – in the same place she’d once gripped him and raised him from the darkest hour. She’d been so proud… it was, after all, the only action she had taken that wasn’t a disaster.  
She looked up into Dean’s unreadable eyes – dark green at the moment.  
“Dean…” Her voice emerged from her throat raw. His eyes changed and he reached towards the makeshift table beside the cot and unscrewed the lid of an untouched water bottle. Cas felt an ache at the sight of the water. She whimpered and Dean froze. He slowly looked down at her with that foreign stare, so full of something she couldn’t name. Her body was so full and so empty at the same time; full of hurts and sensations; full of so many feelings she couldn’t sort them out. And then there was the emptiness. She didn’t need anyone to tell her that the Grace that had been her form of a soul was gone. When they’d stolen her vessel – Jimmy Novak – and thrown what was left of her faded essence into the body of the girl who’s body they’d bled to trap her in the first place… they should have had the mercy to kill her. These feelings were so complicated… so full of contradictions. Everything that made her was gone and here she was, starting over like a newborn soul… Without the soul.  
Dean leaned down and gently pressed the plastic bottle to her lips. Cas shook her head. His lips turned down into a thin line. That look she knew – anger.  
“Drink it.”  
She held his gaze, willing him to understand, in the way he always used to. But, that seemed to be tied to her previous vessel – all of those knowing gazes.  
“Damn it, Cas, I’m not asking you. Drink the damn water.”  
From the corner of her eye she could see Sam turn to watch the exchange.  
“Dean, maybe you should just calm down-“  
Dean wheeled around to his brother.  
“Stay the fuck out of this!”  
Cas shot a remorseful glance at Sam. He offered her a small smile in return.  
Bobby cleared his throat and closed the book he’d been reading.  
“Sam, why don’t you come help me upstairs, give you a chance to flex those steroids.”  
Sam nodded and rose, following Bobby out of the bunker.  
Dean glared at her until the sound of their footsteps retreated beyond earshot.  
“What the hell were you thinking, Cas? What the hell are you thinking?”  
Cas closed her eyes and wondered what the unmovable lump in her throat could be.  
“Dean…” She opened her eyes, “I’m thinking that I don’t deserve all of this. I made a mistake, and it is unfair to force all of you to care for me and to try to clean up my messes. Over and over; especially when I continue to make them.”  
His gaze was pure ice.  
“And, what, exactly does that mean? You just want us to sit back and wait for you to die? Because that’s exactly what’s gonna happen if you don’t try.”  
Cas frowned in confusion.  
“Try what, Dean?”  
“To live, jackass! You must have noticed … you’re playing for the girls’ team now, and not just that, you’re human Cas. If you don’t get your ass up and start trying to live, you will die. And I don’t mean in an impressive blast of light, angel blaze of glory type of thing. You’ll die weak and dirty, and hungry and thirsty and sad, just like every other human.”  
There was a fight ready in his eyes. It burned and simmered, waiting for just a shred of kindle to ignite.  
“And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you do that.”  
He made dying sound so grungy, but in truth, it was all that Cas wanted. This change, this was the worst. She didn’t even know if the bond she’d shared with Dean while she was in Jimmy’s body was still viable. The thought made her want to reopen the gashes on her arms.  
“Give me a reason, then, that I should stay. Tell me Dean, why all of this is so much better than ending, because I’m not seeing that silver lining you always mention after one’s darkest hours.”  
Anger and pain and frustration all bloomed within her – a plentiful and dangerous bouquet.  
Dean looked down at the bottle in his hands, and after a beat, twisted the cap back in place. He leaned forward and returned it to the table, pulling back slowly. His facial hair had grown out, shadowing the lower portion of his face, Cas noted dazed. He hasn’t left this room… Cas suddenly realized. The anger simmered and died inside of her. Shame took its place.  
Dean scrubbed a hand across his face and glanced around the room, as if there might be new answers on a table or on top of Sam’s computer.  
“It’ll be a week tomorrow that we brought you down here. You’ve been awake before in short periods, but I didn’t think you realized it. Mostly, you just rambled on about what had happened that night, some of it from before, when the bastard had you.”  
Dean’s hands curled into fists at his sides.  
“Some of it gave us clues, and Sam took pictures of the symbols on the walls before we left for the hospital,” Dean stood and shoved his hands deep into his pockets and started pacing. “But even with all of that… and seven days of research, we have all of jack squat.”  
Dean turned back to where Cas lay on the cot.  
“Cas, I don’t know what to do,” He wheeled around and pointed an index finger at her with all of the tension of a gun barrel. “But I’ll tell you what I’m not going to do: I’m not going to let you give in to this shit. You are going suck it up and you’re going to hang in there however long it takes for us to work this out. You’re not alone, Cas… so, for the love of whatever you call holy, stop acting like it.”  
The look in his eyes made her remember why Falling had been so easy. That look and what it meant -there wasn’t a piece of Heaven that could compare to the feeling of being needed; of what it felt like to be cared for… In Cas’ world, there wasn’t even a word to describe that.  
Cas struggled to sit up.  
In an instant, Dean was there, right by her side, hand on her arm and the other braced around her shoulder. She swung her legs over the edge of the cot for stability and noted dully that they were bare. She looked down at her body and realized there were certain swells and curves that were not there before. The heavy yet soft brush of flannel against her skin made her do a double take of what she was clothed in: a Flannel of Dean’s that concealed her body down to mid-thigh. A feeling she didn’t understand hit her like a blow to the head, and she shook it, trying to clear it.  
“Just take it easy, okay? Go slow.” He murmured, reaching for the water bottle. Repeating the process of opening it, he pressed it against her lips. This time she drank deeply. When the water was gone, Cas looked up at Dean, trying to read his eyes as she always had, but found that that particular ability was gone, too. She’d never seen this particular shade of green in them.  
His lips turned up in the corner.  
“What is it?” She wondered, suddenly worried about something she couldn’t quite name.  
Dean reached forwards and brushed his thumb over her bottom lip.  
“You had some, uh, water, there.”  
“Oh,”  
Cas licked her lips and forced herself to look up past the shame she felt and at Dean.  
“What do I do? It’s like Falling all over again, Dean, only this is much more painful.”  
His arm tightened around her shoulders.  
“We’ll get through it Cas. Bobby’ll find a way, or maybe Sam will dig up something that will lead us to the Alpha, we’ll make it change you back. We’ll get your Grace back, I swear it.”  
“Get through it…” Cas repeated, absently watching the shadows of the fan overhead make lazy ghosts around the floor.  
She looked back at Dean, only to find him watching her closely.  
“I don’t deserve it. Not after all I’ve done.”  
“Bullshit,” He murmured his voice thick like the honey she remembered tasting once, a long time ago. He took her hand and gently lifted her arm so that her palm was resting within the the brand she’d left when she had raised him from hell. Her hands used to be larger, longer. - In another life…  
“You deserve more than I could ever give you. We all do.”  
He reached out, his actions so smooth and sure, and took her chin in his hand, tilting her gaze back to his.  
“If you need a reason to stay, I’ll give you a hundred. I’m not giving up.”  
Cas’ eyes burned fiercely with the words. She pulled her face away and turned to the wall.  
Dean stood up.  
“I’m going to go and make you a sandwich, and you’re going to eat it. Hell, I’ll eat one with you. And by this time tomorrow we’ll be drinking beers on Baby’s trunk, watching the sunset – it’ll be a total chick flick. You’ll love it, you’ll see.”  
Cas nodded, fighting the burn in her eyes, not sure what she was agreeing to. It was the sound of his voice; she decided that convinced her – that and the fire in his eyes – that always made her promise things that she had no concept of.  
Dean smiled at her and ducked out through the door of the bunker.  
That was the first time Castiel realized how it felt to cry. 

 

Hours passed and no one returned to the bunker. Cas waited, sitting still and listening to the Winchesters and Bobby move around in the house overhead. Parts of her, darker parts, stained and forever marred, whispered that they were done with her, with needing her. How could she help them now? She was just a human, and a weak one at that. Her eyes fell on a dagger beside the book Bobby had been reading when she’d awakened. If she spilled just a little more blood, it would be enough. They wouldn’t have to waste any more time wondering what to do with her, where to put her. She knew where she belonged. The darkness always reminded her.  
Cas rose unsteadily from the cot and crossed the room on trembling legs. When she reached the desk, she didn’t hesitate – just grabbed the knife and held it point first against her chest. One shove, and so much wrong would be righted. So why hadn’t she done it, already? Dean’s deep green gaze swam up in her mind, and Cas frowned. The way her brain thought of him in this body was different. It hurt. The tip pressed through the fabric of her borrowed shirt and nicked her skin. She cried out in pain. The knife fell from her hands and clattered to the floor. She couldn’t. She was a coward. Cas ran her hands through the long hair that was now hers. A gun was what she needed – one squeeze and it would all be over. There wouldn’t be a chance to change her mind. There were loaded guns all over Bobby’s house, she recalled.  
With surer feet, Cas walked out of the bunker and slipped up the stairs, wincing whenever they creaked. Her ability to move without sound was one of a million aspects she missed as an angel. As she neared the doorway, she eased down the hall towards the table at the foot of the stairs. There was a pistol waiting there. It gleamed in the shine of the bare bulb of the lamp on the table, beckoning her onwards -One bright light calling to a fading star.  
“Cas?”  
She spun around, guilt rising up and heating her face in the strangest way.  
Sam looked at her with what she recognized as pity… and something else… relief. His eyes shifted down and then back up. His cheeks went red. He ran a hand through his hair. “What is the matter, Sam?” She couldn’t help asking. Concern for the Winchesters was etched so deeply into her brain; she couldn’t imagine breathing without it there. Sam turned around and called something over his shoulder into the living room. Cas edged towards the doorway, the pistol nestled in the back of her mind.  
Bobby was on the phone, taking notes without pause, seated behind his cluttered desk, only his oil-stained cap visible. In this room was a wealth of information that anyone who knew their worth about the supernatural would envy. A piece of Cas wished she had the will now to read it. As a human, she would need to know how to fight. But, she was getting ahead of herself, she chided. She was behaving as if she were planning on staying in this vessel and accepting the fact of her burden.  
Sam broke into her thoughts and motioned for her to come into the room. Cas padded obediently across the chilly wood.  
“What is it?”  
He smiled at her, and it was the old smile. For that, Castiel was thankful. In that, at least, nothing had changed.  
”We’re going to have to get you some clothes. Some… logical… clothes.” He said laughing in that way that made her want to understand laughter so she could do it too. Behind the wall of books, Bobby chuckled. “With legs like those, who needs ‘em?”  
She looked down at her new body, at the bare legs, and tried to understand what Bobby meant. As her gaze drifted upwards, it paused at Dean’s shirt, and realization rushed through her, that not so long ago, it had been wrapped around Dean the way it was around her now. Her cheeks started to burn in that peculiar way again.  
“Where’s Dean?” She asked Sam, trying to familiarize the sound of her new voice within her mind.  
The answer came from behind her.  
“I’m right here.”  
Cas spun around and found herself nearly chest to chest with Dean. She stumbled backwards and tripped over the edge of the carpet. Sam’s hand shot out and steadied her.  
“Whoa, there, princess, remember what I said about taking it easy.”  
Cas’ heart hammered and she felt wild, panicky.  
“Dean,” She forced out, “Personal space.”  
He threw his head back and laughed, and Cas couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face as she looked away.  
Bobby peered over the mountain of books lining the edges of the desk. “Cas, you think you’ll feel up to going out tomorrow? We’re gonna have to make a run into town and have Jody help us get some… better… clothes for you. What do you think?”  
The three hunters looked at her expectantly. And coward that she was, she set aside the image of the gun pressed against her chest. She wanted to be here, with them. She couldn’t end this feeling just yet.  
She glanced at the Winchesters before answering.  
“Of course, Bobby, that would be… very welcome.”  
She didn’t mention that she enjoyed the smell of gasoline and cheap soap on Dean’s clothes. Or the way it made her forget that things were different. If she closed her eyes, the smell took her back to the beginning when he’d stabbed her in the heart after thanking her for removing him from perdition. It was one of her favorite memories. Cas had never been thanked for anything before.  
Dean pressed a grease-stained bag into her hand, a smirk pulling at his mouth.  
“Only a week on the other side and you’re already planning a shopping spree. What’s next, kitten heels and miniskirts?”  
Sam coughed over his laugh and Cas just stared back at Dean, confused as usual at the reference. Something passed across his features though, and he swallowed, hard, the smirk gone.  
Cas opened the bag and plucked a French fry from the bottom.  
“You were gone for three hours. I take it this is why?” She popped the potato into her mouth, whole.  
Dean sauntered over to the couch and took an oversized bite from his own sandwich, perched on the arm of the sofa. “Yeah, thought you might enjoy a butt load of carbs more than any sandwich I could make. Miss me much?” He said, still chewing.  
Cas crossed the room and sat down carefully beside him. But, instead of answering, she unwrapped her own burger and took a massive bite, relishing the smoky taste of the meat. She moaned appreciatively.  
Cas didn’t see it, but Dean smiled widely down at her, unaware that even as he watched Cas, Bobby and Sam exchanged a curious glance at each other. Bobby stood and stretched, watching the younger man who was a son to him in every way but blood. He’d never seen Dean happy before, not truly happy. And while he wasn’t sure, he’d have put money on the fact that Dean’s happy looked a lot like this. 

They spoke of possibilities and complicated sounding cures well into the evening, each drifting to their own place in the house to surrender to sleep – first Bobby, with a mumbled goodnight as he ascended the stairs, and then Dean, seated on the couch beside Cas, with the edge of her blanket covering his chest. Then Cas, her royal blue eyes fastened on him, forgetting that Sam was still in the room, moved closer to Dean. He inhaled and shifted towards Cas, draping his arm around her shoulders. Sam sat still in the weird orange recliner, watching them; taking in more than either of them did, knowing more than he said same as always.  
Dean snored lightly, and Cas leaned her face towards his chest, and the sound of his voice, even in sleep.  
Sam didn’t know if there was any water behind the saying of soul mates… but the longer he watched his brother and the angel that had given everything for them, the more he began to believe that somewhere, God made certain exceptions… and maybe even insisted on them.

 

Chapter 2

 

A hand fell softly on Cas’ shoulder, startling her from the nightmare. Her eyes snapped open, and it took a few moments to acquaint herself with the shift of dream and reality.  
“You alright, Cas?” Sam asked, kneeling in front of her, his hand still on her shoulder.  
“Back off, Sammy, you’re not exactly the first thing anyone needs to see when they wake up.” Dean muttered from beside her, straightening out of the slouch he had been sleeping in.  
The couch creaked and moved under Cas with Dean’s weight as he swiveled to look at her. Concern chased the sleep from his deep green eyes.  
“Cas?”  
Still trying to settle her breathing, Cas nodded. Dean stared at her hard before releasing her with a nod.  
“Let me go rustle up a few cups of joe,”  
Cas half smiled. “Extra sugar in mine?”  
Dean gave her a wide, easy smile. “Some things always stay the same, huh?”  
Cas looked down at her hands in her lap, trying to stop the horrible incessant smiling.  
Sam stood up and followed Dean into the kitchen. Bobby walked into the room with a plate of toast and scrambled eggs. He passed it into her hands in the rough-yet-kind demeanor he had. “Eat up, kid. You’ll be glad you did later when Jody has you knee deep in broad’s clothing.”  
Cas took a bite of the toast and looked up at Bobby, chewing.  
“You know… I’m not a child.”  
He laughed out loud.  
“Yeah, I know…. Better than anyone else under this roof it would seem.”  
Cas nodded and continued eating, surprised at her ravenous appetite.  
They sat in companionable silence while Bobby returned to his desk, nursing a thermos of coffee. The brothers came back with grins on their faces and steaming cups of coffee in their hands. Dean passed one to Cas and returned to the empty space on the couch beside her. He looked over at her empty plate and smiled at her. “Glad to see you’re back on track.” Before she could respond, Dean turned to Bobby.  
“Hey, Bobby, while you were playing chef, it didn’t occur to you that we might be hungry too?”  
Sam laughed and sipped his coffee as he powered on his laptop.  
Bobby didn’t bother looking over the top of the book that hid his face.  
“Idjit… I only wear an apron for myself, women and children. You don’t look like none of those to me.”  
Dean made a face. He looked over at Cas and winked.  
“And the perks of being a chick begin... now.”  
Cas watched him, couldn’t keep her eyes off of him actually. It was a new habit that accompanied the vessel she couldn’t seem to overcome.  
And to be honest, she didn’t mind much.  
Dean was still Dean, and everything she had Fallen for once, only now, Cas couldn’t deny how much she loved the clever little things he said that she had to think about for a few moments before she understand, or the way he lived every moment like it was his last, yet still managed to be so fully in every second… he was Grace in a human body.  
Cas looked down into her coffee like she was reading tea leaves at the bottom. She set the cup of half consumed coffee on the desk beside Sam and rose off the couch. Dean stood up a moment later, downing half his mug.  
“What’s up, Cas?”  
She wasn’t sure exactly how to properly phrase what she wanted.  
“Bobby, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to take… a… shower… and to prepare for this spree that has been arranged with Jody. However, I don’t think what I’m presently wearing will be appropriate for public for the occasion.”  
Dean snorted the coffee he was drinking, and Sam laughed as he coughed it out. Bobby looked over at them and then at Cas, a smile spreading over his face.  
“Of course Cas, Mi casa, su casa. I might have something of Karen’s left in the attic, I’ll check. If I come up with anything, I’ll have one of the boys bring it up and leave it outside the bathroom door.”  
Cas nodded. “Thank you, Bobby.”

Cas climbed the stairs listening to the guys’ voices carrying up the passage with her. She was weak still, but the difference was beyond what she might have hoped for, and that was not including the adaptation to the current vessel. She moved more easily – her movements more fluid, graceful. It reminded her of flying… almost. Although there was nothing that could match the freedom her wings gave her. Cas rolled her shoulders and the emptiness might have weighed a million pounds. She shoved the thoughts to the back of her mind, back where her ideas of death and that pistol she’d past at the bottom of the stairs waited at. Those were not here and now, and in this now, the world was changing by the hour. She didn’t want to die, not now. She needed to hear Bobby make a joke about her current state and laugh when she realized how ridiculous it must be to them to see her in another vessel; she wanted Sam to share some interesting lore with her and sit with him, drinking the delicious tea he made while they traded stories of what they had seen… but more than anything, she wanted Dean to keep looking at her the way her had been. It made her feel… necessary. More than anything ever had. That couldn’t end.  
She reached the bathroom door and, scarcely remembering the process, disrobed Dean’s flannel only to find underneath she was wearing a pair of his boxers. The thought made her face burst into metaphorical flames. She quickly shoved them down her legs and onto the puddle of flannel around her feet. She walked slowly to the shower and turned the hot water on, listening to it rattle through the pipes while the warmth made its way up from the basement. She turned to the full length mirror while she waited and looked at the body that was now hers. There was no denying it was certainly appealing, resembling her previous vessel in remarkable ways: her eyes foremost, the same blue, the shape of her face, the angle of her nose, the darkness in her hair, the full bottom lip… even the lean, slender build. Cas frowned. She would have preferred there to be more muscle on her arms and legs… they were too thin. She would have to talk to Sam about helping her acquire more. He seemed to, easily enough.  
The mirror began to steam her image away, signaling Cas that the water was the most comfortable temperature. She walked away from the old mirror and stepped into the shower letting the water flow over her skin, cleansing away the dirt and grime the guys had left her with the modesty of cleaning herself. It was a concept that was new to Castiel – modesty. Previously, in her male incarnation, it had never been an issue, but, for some peculiar reason, in this body, she felt more fragile and exposed.  
Perhaps it was what she had endured at the hands of the Alpha.  
Castiel moved mechanically, pouring shampoo into her palms and lathering it into her long black hair. Mid-task she slowed and lowered her hand, bringing it to her nose.  
It smelled like simple things, like wind and clean blankets. It smelled like Dean - Dean, before he set out on a hunt or worked on the Impala’s engine. Before the gunpowder could overtake the scent of what he smelled like when he was just Dean. Castiel closed her eyes, and leaned against the shower wall – the water washing the solution from her hair as she stood there, drowning in thought. The pipes groaned and without warning the water turned icy. Castiel gasped, and spun the knobs both ways until the flow of frigid water ceased. She hurried out of the shower and pulled a towel off the rack – a faded lavender color that had the touch of a female in its choosing – Karen, Castiel thought with a tinge of sadness. Opening the medicine cabinet, she found some mouth wash. Lacking a toothbrush, it was the best she could do. When she had done all of the humanly activities she could remember belonged to this routine, she opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the hallway, startled into immobility.  
Dean was waiting.  
His arms were full of clothes. His face was playful at first and his lips parted to issue a clever remark – Cas knew Dean’s face well enough… but as his eyes moved down her face towards her neck, and down, down to the parts the towel concealed… they changed. His breath slowed and he jerked his gaze back up to her face.  
“Cas,”  
It felt like he hadn’t uttered her name in a thousand years. Dean’s voice held a hint of something Castiel couldn’t put a name to. Their eyes tangled in the old, familiar way, but in that moment, it felt very new.  
“What is it, Dean?”  
He stares at her hard, and everything is bare and full of light in his eyes. Castiel can see herself there, and while she seems small, she takes up most of the space of the hallway’s reflection. Dean’s pupils dilate in a moment, and he clears his throat, breaking the moment into two pieces – before and after.  
“I, uh… Bobby had and old skirt of Karen’s and I threw in a t-shirt, they’re both too big but you won’t be in them long,” He says glancing at the wall, at his boots – at the hallway behind her – everywhere but her eyes. His cheeks suddenly redden. “I meant that you wouldn’t be wearing them long enough to be very uncomfortable.”  
Cas nodded, watching him. She made no move to take the clothes. Dean was distressed, which in turn distressed her.  
“Are you alright, Dean? Did I do something uncustomary?”  
His eyebrows shot up and he began talking a mile a minute.  
“No, not at all Cas, why would you ask that? I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”  
Cas raised an eyebrow and took the clothes from his grasp, holding the towel in place with the other.  
As soon as the clothes were out of Dean’s hands, he was backing away from her. “Well, I’ma head on down and see if Jody’s here.”  
Cas frowned and nodded. Dean mirrored her movements, but didn’t move. He looked so out of character, Castiel pitied him and felt shame as her heart raced.  
“Dean?”  
His gaze shot up to hers and tangled, the way it always did. He swallowed.  
“I wanted to apologize.”  
He stared back, confused.  
“What could you possibly be sorry for?”  
She looked down at her bare feet on the hall carpet. Everything about her was too small.  
She looked up at Dean as his boots moved a step closer to her toes.  
“Cas?”  
“I know this must be difficult for all of you to see me like this – a disappointment, to be sure. Without my abilities, I am a weight on the three of you. But,” Cas did her best to look imposing. “If any of you would be willing, I would appreciate it if you could spare the time to teach me to fight. In this body… everything seems much harder, and I want to be there, to help all of you,” She clarified, “instead of the one you need to look after.”  
Dean’s mouth had opened sometime during Castiel’s request and hadn’t closed. He closed the distance between them and his hands were on each side of her face. They were so warm, Cas wanted to lean into them, into his smell, into him. She didn’t move, though.  
“Cas… that’s not how it is… not at all.”  
She tried to keep the unfamiliar emotions hidden from her features, but she felt them seep through her eyes – Dean knew her eyes – and there was nothing she could hide for long.  
“I told you I would give you a hundred reasons to stay. And believe me when I say this, it’s not because we need another hunter with us. We want you, Cas. I want you. I want you to stay with us, to keep fighting, because I’m not ready to lose you. I need you, Cas.”  
Her heartbeat actually hurt.  
“Dean,” She began, but never finished. Because Dean leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, molding them until they fit together like two broken things pressed back together to form the shape they once were. Cas didn’t know how to kiss really, her knowledge was limited to one pizza man; she didn’t even know much about it, but she learned in that moment that Dean Winchester tasted like coffee and mint, smelled like faint gasoline and leather, with a hint of gunpowder that never really washed away… and that once one passed the rough stubble he kept around his mouth, his lips were soft and supple, and like his life, always ready to give. 

Cas allowed herself one moment of insanity, pouring herself into the kiss as she pulled Dean closer against her. Her lips mimicked his and she pushed further, in wonder at this new sensation of taste. She had no idea that humans had scents and flavors… until she remembered… his scent was always on her, Crowley had said as much once. And the whole dilemma came rushing back at her – she was an angel who was no longer an angel – she didn’t even have the liberty to claim she had Fallen of her own will – she was a corrupted divinity in a dead girl’s body.  
Dean moaned softly against her lips.  
Castiel pulled away and stared at a space on the threadbare carpet between them.  
Dean opened his eyes.  
“What…?”  
Cas could hardly force herself to look at him.  
“I’m sorry Dean.”  
He stared at her, eyes brilliant and full of desire.  
Disgust shot through her. What was she doing?  
Dean scrubbed a hand over his chin.  
“Sorry… For that? Why?”  
She felt the frown transform her face.  
“It isn’t… right… of me to entice you.”  
Dean threw his head back and laughed hard enough to shake his shoulders. He raised one arm and braced it above them on the wall.  
“Okay, so maybe you might have… enticed me a little bit. It was kinda… awesome.” He finished with a smile so wide and honest, Cas hated herself. Dean saw an attractive female in her. Not the angelic ally he had once called brother. Once he thought through this incident, he would feel guilty. And, true to form, blame himself for yet something further that wasn’t his fault. Cas couldn’t stand the concept of bringing him more regret.  
He stared at her, still smiling, until he wasn’t.  
“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything just now. That was the best fucking kiss I’ve ever had.”  
Cas looked away.  
“I… I felt it.”  
His arm fell to his side, and Dean jerked them into place across his chest – a defensive stance Castiel recognized well. She was on the outside.  
“Then what’s the problem?” He nearly growled.  
Cas pulled her eyes up, and up, to meet Dean’s. “You don’t understand. This isn’t supposed to be a pleasant dream. I’m not supposed to be enjoying this, Dean, and especially leading you astray with this body.”  
Dean shifted.  
“There is so many things wrong with what you just said.” He said, shaking his head.  
Cas drew herself up with as much dignity the situation allowed.  
“As I said, you don’t understand. You can’t. I… I am a weapon Dean. I was created for a purpose. I abandoned that when I raised you from the Pit, though I was not aware of it. And even after, I still served a purpose – I served you and your brother’s crusades, and did what I could. I served myself, and nearly destroyed everything. Don’t you see? Without something, someone to devote my existence to, I begin to… how would you say it? Self-destruct.”  
Dean looked like he’d swallowed something sharp.  
“I am not a human, I am a weapon. To pretend that I am anything other – in my own mind or otherwise – it would be a lie. If I am not an angel, I am nothing.”  
“Cas…” He murmured, pain filling his eyes. He reached for her, but she pulled away.  
“So you see? I cannot enjoy my time as being something that I am not. This is not a dream, and I cannot wake up. Whatever world I create here, it will be the world I die in. There is no Grace left in me… so I have one purpose left that I can fulfill – helping you and your family.”  
Dean pushed her against the wall, pinning her there with his body. Cas looked down at the point where their bodies met, and up into Dean’s eyes.  
“Damnit Cas, you are such a child sometimes… I feel like I have to point out the obvious when it’s right there in front of you.”  
Cas inhaled, and the movement pushed her harder against him.  
“What do you mean?”  
“That kiss… take that kiss and glue it to your damned brain. It wasn’t a mistake. This isn’t a nightmare… it doesn’t have to be.”  
Dean leaned down and touched his lips against hers, softer, more gently than before.  
Cas wanted so badly to be able to make Dean see that he would only hurt himself, and, to a lesser extent, her, with this path, but… she was weak.  
“Dean, this body –“  
He grabbed her hands at her sides and twined his fingers amongst them.  
“Get over yourself, Cas. But I think you know well enough to know-”  
He pressed against her harder, the brass button of his jeans digging into her abdomen.  
“That there’s more going on here than either of us has ever admitted. Maybe it was the body; maybe it was something else, but you and me… Cas I’ve never felt this way in my life.”  
Cas couldn’t breathe. She didn’t want to but she made a feeble attempt dispel the truth.  
“Most likely it’s the Bond-“  
Dean looked down at her, and she could have sworn the look in his eyes was one he saved for hunting.  
“Maybe so, or maybe that’s a load of crap you tell yourself.”  
Castiel’s heart drummed in her chest.  
Dean bent down and ran his lips along her throat. The ensuing tremble that rippled through her was beyond all control. His scent overwhelmed her, and she couldn’t think of anything, anything at all, aside from the man holding her against the wall with nothing more powerful than his body and a few truthful words.  
“It’s what I’ve been telling myself… for years… Castiel…”  
Dean eased back enough so that they could look into one another’s eyes.  
“I had every excuse in the book, and I used them all. Every time you were around… man” He raked a hand through his uneven spikes, “I was so careful to keep it all together.”  
Cas narrowed her eyes.  
“Dean… what are you talking about?”  
“When I thought I lost you… when I saw all of that blood… all of my arguments and excuses felt so damn stupid.”  
Castiel didn’t dare to move.  
“Cas, I’ve… been… in love…. with you… pretty much since I met you. It took me some time to realize it, understand it, but I’ve got no other explanation for what I feel for you. This body…” He said taking a very long look at her current vessel before continuing, “It’s great. It really is. But you… whatever form that is truly you – Chrysler Building or whatever – that’s what I’m… it’s you, Cas. And the way I see this nightmare of yours… it’s a hell of a lot brighter from where I’m standing. We’re both still breathing, and now you know. Like I said, this doesn’t have to be the nightmare you’re trying to make it. Let me give you a reason, hell, let me give you all of the hundred I promised to make you stay.”  
“Stay with me, Cas.”

Chapter 3

It was madness. The skirt had twelve too many buttons down the front, and those were the ones that Cas had bothered to count. It was a madman’s task to try to align them all and secure them. Looking at her reflection in the dresser mirror, Cas huffed. She tried to tuck in Dean’s old t-shirt the way she had once tucked in Jimmy’s white shirt, but it wasn’t the same. The fabric was too soft.  
Slipping on the old gardening sneakers she’d found in the closet, Cas, ran her fingers through her hair, and then stopped. Where had that gesture originated from?  
Frowning at herself, she left the room and started out down the hall towards the stairs. Below, she could hear the boys arguing and Bobby speaking to someone in a slightly softer tone than he reserved for any of them, which could only mean that the Sheriff, and Bobby’s girlfriend, Jody Mills had arrived. Cas quickened her step down the stairs, determined not to keep them waiting. The skirt swayed with her movements, reminding Cas of her overcoat. An ache settled in for that stretch of fabric and she bit back the hope that one day she could replace it.  
New body, new life.  
Coming around the corner from the downstairs hall, she found the living room packed with humans… who all stopped talking when she appeared in the doorway. Cas was used to that. She wasn’t used to the gleam in Dean’s eyes when they met hers, however. She smiled slightly, and looked away.  
“There she is,” Bobby cooed, and Cas felt the strangeness all come flooding back. “Come on in Cas, I was just filling Jody out on the little details.”  
The sheriff walked over to Castiel with a look of pity and wonder.  
“Hey Cas,” She greeted, gently.  
Castiel smiled politely, and extended her hand as she’d seen the Winchesters do when meeting people.  
Jody, however, was not a Winchester. She leaned forwards and gripped Cas tightly in an embrace. “I’m so glad you made it. The way Bobby tells me, you’re lucky to be breathing, period.”  
Cas shot a worried glance over at Dean, who was smirking.  
“That’s what I told her, sheriff, but I think the sound of my voice is starting to sound a little monotonous to the gal.”  
Cas raised an eyebrow and eased back out of Jody’s motherly grip.  
“I’d prefer it if you didn’t refer to me as a gal... whatever that may be.” Cas complained.  
Dean laughed out loud and Sam joined him.

 

When they arrived at the thrift store, Cas was immediately grateful to have Jody’s guidance because, amid all of the winding racks and mounds of recycled human goods, Castiel wasn’t sure where to begin.  
They all stood in the front of the store with Bobby and the boys looking like they weren’t quite sure if they should stay or go.  
“I’m going to go check out their shoes,” Sam said, his gaze already scanning the far wall.  
Dean smirked. “Yeah, you go do that, Cinderella.”  
Sam shot him a look before stalking away.  
Bobby checked with Jody, making sure she didn’t need any more help with Cas. Whenever they spoke about her, sometimes it felt like they were forgetting that she was standing within earshot, and Cas would feel her cheeks burn at the unwanted attention. She looked at the sea of clothing, feeling no pull despite the uncomfortable fit of her current attire. Dean walked over and casually brushed his fingertips over the back of her hand. He followed her gaze as his fingers slid around to fill the inside of her hand – the rough callous of his thumb rubbing reassuring circles in the crease of her palm. “Don’t worry. Jody will get you into some new gear that’ll make you feel more comfortable.”  
Cas swallowed and nodded, still surveying the vastness of the store.  
Bobby laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder.  
“Jody and I are going to go over to see if there are any weapons here. Dean, take Cas around. If she sees something that jumps out at her, carry it. Jody will be back to help her in the fitting room.”  
Bobby and Jody walked away towards the rare books.  
“I could help you in the fitting room.” Dean mumbled, but continued to rub Cas’ palm.  
“I know. This is just… very daunting. I wish it we were already finished here.”  
From the corner of her eye, Castiel saw Dean grin.  
“That ready to get back home, are we?”  
She turned to look at him, really look, since no one was paying attention anyway.  
“What will happen when we return to the house?”  
Dean started ahead, pulling Cas behind him, hands tightly wound around each other.  
“That’s up to you.”

 

Dean stopped at a rack of female clothing that looked a little like the fabrics and colors the guys usually chose to wear. Cas stopped and pulled a denim utility jacket from the rack. She brushed her fingers over the tough fabric that was frayed in a couple of places but, overall looked to be sturdy enough. It had silver buttons on the many pockets and down the front. Cas held it out so that Dean could see.  
“Is this something akin to what we are searching for?”  
His lips drew up in the corner as he walked closer, stopping less than a foot from Castiel. Whatever had once existed as personal space didn’t seem to trouble him now.  
His quick glass green eyes scanned the jacket as his hands tested the fabric and the pockets.  
Dean passed the jacket back to Cas.  
“Yeah, it’s nice. You want it?”  
She looked down at the denim and nodded, imagining how she would feel wrapped in it. She could see it, see herself even.  
“Alright then, toss it in the cart. My treat.”  
Cas looked up at Dean sharply.  
“You’re paying for my clothes?”  
He thumbed through the rack, pulling out a much worn Led Zeppelin t-shirt.  
“Well, yeah. Kinda felt like it was my responsibility.”  
He didn’t sound bothered by the fact, if anything, Dean sounded happy about paying for Castiel’s new wardrobe.  
“I’ll pay you back.” She said, touching the shirt in his hands.  
Dean didn’t look up at her, just answered.  
“Shut your pie hole, Cas. I want to be the one to pay. And I don’t want to have a chick flick moment about it, alright? So… just find whatever makes you feel comfortable and put it in the basket. Then forget this ridiculous idea that you consistently owe me.”  
Cas nodded, always surprised at the generosity that hid beneath the rough exterior of hunters.  
She looked at the t-shirt Dean still was inspecting. A strange boldness overtook her and she stepped closer to him than she normally dared. Dean grew still, his eyes cutting over to her. “Do you like this one?” She asked, trying to imitate the females she had seen flirt with him. It felt strange, but oddly comforting – like spreading her wings after keeping them furled while earthbound for prolonged periods.  
Dean held up the t-shirt against Cas’ chest.  
He looked up at her, as a wide, stupid grin spread across his face.  
“Oh yeah, this is totally you.”  
Cas took the shirt and looked it over.  
“It might be a little… disproportionate.”  
Dean chuckled. “That’s the point, sweetheart. Zep and a nice pair to advertise.”  
Cas rolled her eyes, but the feeling of desire and of being desired filled her with a foreign exhalation.  
“Okay, then. Let’s get it.”  
By the end of the isle, Jody still hadn’t returned, and their shopping cart was almost full of clothes that Cas knew to be hunter gear. It made her proud to look down and see the physical beginnings of her new life coming together. Perhaps it was a sensation females experienced – because, as Jimmy Novak, this sort of feeling had never occurred.  
They left the clothing racks behind and made their way over to Shoes, where Sam was sitting on a bench, with three pairs of surrounding him.  
He looked up as they wheeled into view.  
“Hey guys. Have any luck?”  
Before they could answer, his eyes darted over to the contents of the shopping cart and a smile spread across his face.  
“Nice threads, Cas.”  
Castiel smiled shyly back, holding the cart beside Dean’s grasp.  
“Thank you. Dean believes I’ll need some boots to go with these. Maybe some other… footwear as well. I honestly don’t see the need for more than one pair of shoes, to be honest, though.”  
Dean scanned the racks of women’s leather boots.  
“Remember what I told you about gift horses, Cas, stop kicking.”  
Sam looked at Dean’s back and turned to Cas.  
“Wow, you’re paying for all of this?”  
Dean’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t stop his quest.  
“We can’t exactly steal it, Sam.”  
Sam huffed out a half sigh.  
“Okay. Any chance that you’re paying for my shoes, too?”  
Dean only laughed in response.  
Cas watched from the other side of the shopping cart, memorizing every detail about them. This was a side she had rarely seen – domestic life surprisingly agreed with the Winchesters. Castiel felt sorrow they couldn’t experience it more. Well, she would do what she could to make their entire existences happier now.  
What else did she have? What else was worth their kindness?  
“Ah, here we go,” Dean said approvingly as he pulled a lightly worn pair of dark leather boots with enough metal studs on them, Cas felt empathy already for whomever she would be kicking.  
Cas pushed the cart out of the way and walked slowly over to Dean and his find, eyeing them.  
“These seem… overly sufficient.” She commented, taking them into her grasp.  
Dean watched her closely.  
“Yeah, well, they’ll be good for tagging along with us, when the time is right.” He amended quickly. “Like, when you can outshoot me and kick my ass.”  
Cas didn’t look up, only grinned the smile she had learned from Dean. Sitting down beside Sam, she kicked off the sneakers, beginning the process of pulling on the boots.  
Sam looked up, intending to ask Dean exactly what Cas would be tagging along for, but noticed that his brother had a look in his eyes that hadn’t been there… ever. It was a perfect storm of possession, longing, protectiveness, and pride… and more than a little bit of unconcealed lust. Sam recognized the look – he’d worn it often enough around Jess.  
He turned in the direction of his brother’s gaze, not really surprised to find Cas in the line of fire, Dean’s eyes glued to the once-angel and the place where her inner thigh was exposed as the skirt she wore rode up as she pulled on the boots he’d found for her. Sam looked away, feeling like he was intruding on something very ancient and private. The corner of his mouth tugged up, all of the looks and the drinking… it all fit into this nice little package called: Dean’s Unrequited Love for Cas. 

 

After Dean had paid for the contents of the shopping cart, Bobby and Jody met up with the remaining half of Team Free Will.  
True to form, Bobby had found some valuable books on folklore – the kind that were probably more than your grandmother’s bedtime stories and Jody had found Cas a present of her own.  
She handed the plastic bag to Cas without ceremony.  
“Here, just a little something from me that I thought you might enjoy… you know, deep down, when the pit crew here doesn’t have you hemming their dirty work.”  
Cas looked down at the bag and sorted through her head for the customary response.  
“Thank you Jody, for thinking of me.”  
Everyone’s gaze fell onto Cas expectantly. She met them, one at a time, confused, until Dean leaned over and whispered, “Take it out and look at it.”  
“Oh,” Castiel exclaimed, flustered and embarrassed by her continual lack of familiarity with human customs, even though, she technically was one for the rest of her foreseeable existence.  
Cas reached inside the bag and pulled out a folded bit of fabric that reminded her of the robes that were once worn my men and women alike... except, this one was much more revealing. Cas held up the dress and tried to understand any hidden meaning behind its presentation to her.  
She ran her hand over the dark fabric with its little pinpricks of white and celestial colors that gradually faded into one another. She recognized the scene of the fabric immediately – she’d only gazed at it more times than her eyes could count and was never disappointed by the beauty of her Father’s creations.  
It was the Milky Way, and once more, she could wrap herself in it.  
Castiel hurled herself at Jody and locked the woman in a fierce hug.  
“This is more than just a gift. The consideration-”  
Cas lacked the words or knowledge of how to wield them with any sort of emotional efficiency.  
Jody wrapped her arms around the once-angel inside the young woman’s body.  
“None of us can even imagine what it’s like to lose world, or the body we are used to seeing in the mirror, but we’re here, Cas.”  
Castiel felt the threat of tears and drew back. She took a few deep breaths, looking down at the fabric in her hands.  
“I’d like to wear this now, if that would be possible.”  
Jody stepped forwards. “Of course, they have a fitting room here where you can change.”  
The sheriff turned to Dean.  
“Let me see what you guys found,” Jody said, reaching forward and taking the handful of bags from his hands. She ushered Cas towards the back of the store.  
” I’ll have her back in ten.”

 

It took more than ten minutes, and the purchase of some vintage lingerie that made Cas blush with something she couldn’t comprehend, but as she pulled on the denim jacket that Dean had bought her over her bare shoulders – Jody explained that the lack of sleeves was referred to as a sundress – she began to understand what Jody had meant about the dress making Castiel feel good, in herself, without actually doing anything for anyone to induce the emotion.  
Jody helped her with the boots, showing her how to master the many straps and zipper.  
Castiel looked at her reflection in the thrift store mirror under the piercing glare of the electric light, staring hard into her sapphire eyes.  
Jody’s hand alighted on her shoulder.  
“Ready to show those saps how nicely you clean up?”  
Cas understood the question and nodded, swallowing, wondering how long they would tease her about the very feminine appearance she sported now. But, wrapped in the representation of the galaxy that was her home, and the clothes given to her by those humans she loved more than anything, she believed that she could face it, and maybe, even reciprocate it, a little.  
Jody gathered Castiel’s previous outfit into one of the plastic bags and unlatched the fitting room door, stepping out before her. Cas followed and stepped out into the brighter light of the store. The guys were standing together, looking down at one of the volumes Bobby had just purchased, and discussing the possibility of some creature.  
Jody cleared her throat. Dean was the first to look up. His lips parted, and Cas braced herself for his jibe, but it never came.  
Bobby whistled low and walked over with Sam in his wake.  
“You look great, Cas, really.” Sam said with a smile.  
Bobby complimented Jody on her selection of the dress and Cas echoed it, smiling and watching her family, but her eyes would drift… and they would find Dean… and Cas could have sworn that Dean had the look in his eye of a man who had been searching all his life for something and was just given his first glimpse of it… Sort of like the way she had felt as she had first laid eyes upon his bare soul in Hell.


	2. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Cas is ambushed by a demon she doesn't instantly see, she is nearly victimized and killed. But at the last possible moment, Dean rushes in and struggles with the demon to save her. In the fray, Dean is badly injured and Cas is jolted by an earth shattering revelation: that while she has held a piece of Dean's humanity ever since she pulled him from Hell, Dean has had half of her Grace hidden in the depths of his soul. With this revelation comes more... Cas is forced from her new human vessel and jolted back into her true form, which is being held captive in a sinister plot against Heaven. With flashes of Cas' vision, Team Free Will gears up to go save the angel that had always saved them... but there's a question hanging in the air that no one really wants to ask: how do you save an immortal, celestial being that can burn your eyes out with a single glance?

Chapter 4  
Roads Untraveled – Linkin Park  
The Heart Wants What It Wants – The Animal in Me  
Ramble On – Led Zeppelin  
Kashmir – Led Zeppelin  
Savior- Rise Against  
Headstrong - Trapt

 

“So, where to next?” Dean wondered aloud from the driver’s seat. Sam sat shotgun as usual, with Cas sitting directly behind Dean. He had his mirror flipped down, and Cas was grateful for the extra view of him. He would look at her and his reflection would grin.   
“Well, Bobby and Jody were thinking about heading over to Tripwire for a few drinks. We could do that or maybe catch a movie…?” Sam supplied, reading a copy of yesterday’s paper he snagged at a machine outside the thrift store.   
Dean met Cas’ gaze.   
“What’s it gonna be - party time or movie night with the Winchesters?”  
Cas knew what Dean would prefer, and for once, the idea of alcohol and laughter felt appealing.  
“I don’t have any preferences. Sam?” She asked, glancing over at the younger brother, or more particularly, his shoulder.   
Sam turned in his seat to look at her directly.   
“I’m up for whatever you guys wanna do.”  
Dean’s low chuckle was drowned out by the sound of the engine roaring to life.   
Sam looked at him, but the scowl dissolved into a smile.   
Dean put the Impala into gear and started after Bobby’s mismatched Pinto.   
“Tripwire it is.”

 

An hour and a half later, there’s a small group of unsuspecting people sitting in a booth in what could be the center of the establishment, pouring beer from the pitcher into glass mugs and laughing at the stupid jokes that each tries to tell – this small group of people, they are all that has stood between humanity’s darkest hours and are frequently its last hope. They are each broken pieces of people they will never be, never know, and yet, these pieces of humans, simple humans, have come together time and again, giving their lives at times to save a planet of humans unaware that the people sitting next to them are responsible for it all. No one really gives them more than a couple glances. No one has to. Because there is something happening, something that has never happened before –  
An old alcoholic is spending a night with the family he never thought he would have, his arm wrapped tight around the small town sheriff who is tough as leather, because that was the only thing she could be after losing her own family to a cause she didn’t understand. Across the table, there’s a man in his early thirties, with more scars than anyone can count, inside and out. He doesn’t believe in love or destiny, but as he turns to the young woman beside him with the piercing blue eyes, he thinks he might have overlooked something, and he’ll be damned if he misses it again.   
No one in the building aside from those at the table know the truth behind the young woman’s eyes – that she’s anything but young, or was always confined to the boundaries of flesh and bone– a millennia old angel who challenged Heaven itself on more than one occasion to save the faithless and flawed man beside her. She looks at him and then back at her glass, the alcohol making her bolder, more hopeful, and she embraces the feeling blossoming in her chest with each shared glace. She would rebel and fall and tear out her own Grace if it meant saving him, give him peace. He doesn’t know this, but he’s catching on fast.  
And then there’s the tall, shaggy haired man, who sips his beer slower than everyone else. He watches this family and he smiles wide because it is the only family he has ever known. He observes, and he sees his brother, slipping into a love he didn’t realize he was himself capable of… and he smiles because somewhere, he knows that all of those they have lost should be at this table with them, they’re all smiling because this is love, and it will win, one way or another. 

“And then the fucking shell jammed, and it’s a good damned thing too, ‘cuz there were five nuns on the other side of the door I was about to pump full of rock salt!”   
Cas grins as she reaches for her glass, watching Bobby half-heartedly take a swipe at Dean’s head across the table.   
Jody eases past Bobby to go feed coins into the music machine they call a jukebox. Dean twists around in his seat to call out after Jody.   
“Make sure you play at least one Zeppelin song, will ya? Like, Ramble On?”  
Castiel grins. She hopes Jody chooses Kashmir, instead. It’s one of her favorite human songs.   
As he turns back around, Dean’s arm pauses on the back of Cas’ seat and he looks at her, full of smiles and alcohol. Without saying anything, he moves his hand to her shoulder and rubs the denim gently against her skin, taking another pull from his beer stein. Bobby watches, smiling in the offhanded way he has.  
Sam excuses himself to use the restroom, and it is then that Castiel realizes her own bladder is heavy and needing release. She pardons herself from the table, carefully winding around her chair, her head hazy from the drink.  
Her days of consuming liquor stores seem long past.  
She follows the direction Sam went in, struggling to form full thoughts.   
Mentally she berates herself for not remembering she was no longer an angel and that the amount of alcohol required to intoxicate her was much, much less than it previously had been. She entered the females’ restroom and did her business, unable to think about the thoughts that had plagued her since she had awoken in this body. Dean was a fantastic distraction, and the more she considered it, the more she was thankful for him. Cas had a good mind to tell him so once she returned to the table.   
Cas walked out the door of the restroom and was grabbed hard by the shoulders. Her movements were slow in response. She batted at the hands, trying to push them away, but she lacked the physical strength. For a single moment she thought perhaps it was Dean, and paused in her struggles, but when she looked up and her heart jumped, but not in the good way.   
The man was a stranger.   
“Hey there, baby. You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to leave that table.”  
Cas frowns and looks around. “I didn’t see you waiting, but you’re more than welcome to join us…”  
He moves closer, pinning her small body against the wall. “Nah, I got what I want right here.”  
Cas watches the man, trying to read him as she once was able to read all souls.  
Lust…   
Her heart bucks as an instinctual tendril of fear whips up the hollow of her back.   
“I, um, I need to be getting back-“Cas begins but the man’s arms are gripping hers tightly and pulling her back towards the exit. “No!” She shouts, twisting against his grasp back towards the hall. A door opens behind her, and Cas’ senses are still sharp enough that the tangy bite of the South Dakota night air catches in her nostrils. Panic claws at her insides. No… he’s taking her away from the others, from Dean.   
“Stop this!” She commands, reaching for the white light that will hurl him back, but nothing happens. Castiel whimpers.   
“Shut up,” The man grunts, shoving his hand up the bottom of her dress. He heaves her back against the bricks of the building. His fingertips brush her inner thigh and grab at the silky undergarments. Cas shoves against her assailant’s chest but the arms she possesses now are devoid of the muscle and the power to repel enemies. Fabric rips and Castiel’s dress is jerked up before she can think of a way to defend herself. Rough hands twist her around and her face scrapes the bricks of the wall. She hears a zipper and feels his weight against her back. She hears her pleas and whimpers, but they seem to be coming from somewhere else – from someone else. Cas remembers the gun at Bobby’s house and wishes she had it now. And then… It all happens so fast, Cas isn’t sure how one moment she was against the wall, a breath away from violation of the man and the next, he was on the ground at her feet, with Dean straddling him, beating him bloody, blood spattering across the concrete.   
Cas jerked her dress back down and looked in time to see the man’s fist connect with Dean’s jaw. Her hunter fell back, shook his head, spit blood onto the pavement and charged, tackling the man, throwing him against the metal trash bin as he rained blows into the man’s stomach and face.   
Dean paused and turned to Cas, his eyes dark, his cheek bruised and bloody.   
“Cas, go... Go back inside. Tell Sam and Bobby what happened.”   
She jerked her head from side to side. “I won’t leave you here. This man is dangerous.”  
Dean grinned and it had an almost sinister effect. “Not to me, angel,”  
Dean’s smile fell and Castiel cried out.   
The man held a gun against Dean’s jaw. The revolver cocked.   
Cas didn’t think - just took a step closer, but Dean managed a barely perceptible shake of his head.   
The man crawled out from under Dean and ordered him to his knees.   
“She’s not going anywhere, or telling anybody anything.” The man said through teeth Dean had broken. He spit a projectile of blood onto the group before Cas.   
Dean turned his head to look at the man.   
“That so?”   
The arm holding the gun whipped out and slammed against Dean’s temple. The hunter fell to his hands and knees, struggling to remain conscious.   
He was no use to Cas if he blacked out.   
“You stupid son of a bitch,” He said looking at the concrete while keeping his tone conversational. “You don’t have the slightest clue what either of us is.”  
For one moment, the man seemed to consider his actions before taking them.   
“FBI?” He asked Castiel.   
She narrowed her eyes and took a step forward. 

“Not today.”  
When she didn’t stop walking towards the man, he spun the gun on her and Dean barked out a warning, earning him another strike in the face. He crumbled to the pavement, gasping.   
Castiel’s back itched and her palms burned. She couldn’t think straight, one moment her heart beat – the next it fluttered and stopped. She ignored it all, her eyes darting between Dean and the abomination that was slowly killing him.   
“You foolish, insignificant human…” She growled. The man fired a warning shot in return, but Cas reached out and slapped the gun out of his hand. “Can you truly not know what I am?” He looked confused and increasingly, appropriately unnerved.   
In his grip, the gun began to shake and his eyes widened. All before they turned black… “You’re supposed to be dead… there wasn’t any trace of angel in you inside that bar. How…”  
Cas took another step closer, palm raised.   
“Maybe just a smidge,”  
“Look, this is all some big misunderstanding,” He rambled, the words falling out of his mouth almost as one.   
Cas nodded her head, still advancing.   
“Yes, it is. Because in all of the shared history of our species, never has one of you presumed to overtake one of mine. They were never that stupid…”  
His face went blank and Castiel knew he was planning on smoking out.   
Making sure Dean was behind her, she reached for the fire that had ignited when she realized he’d come to save her. This should be a moment she would want to remember, but, she couldn’t find it in her heart to care enough to slow down and savor the moment.   
Her eyes sparked and burned – not angel bright – but far more than human.   
“I’m an angel, you ass. And that man there, he hunts things like you when he’s bored. There’s a reason your kind have the reputation of ignorance they do.”  
The white light coiled and surged through her fingers as she struck out, catching the demon across the jaw.   
He stumbled back and his eyes caught hers.   
“How the hell…”  
Cas felt her true form stir in its slumber – the cosmic creature that churned beneath her vessels’ skin and pressed in at every angle, the thing the size of human buildings… it opened its luminous eyes, climbed to clawed feet, and sent forth something like a nuclear blast.   
Stumbling forward, she felt the air stir as someone came to stand at her side. Cas looked over her shoulder Dean; appearing as strong and unbroken as the day she’d broken the surface of Hell with his soul tangled in her Grace. His eyes burned sage light under the yellow streetlamps; the undercurrent between them illuminating the concrete and brick walls of the alleyway – a frozen brilliance that might compare to lightening in power and burn in its weakest moments.  
Cas saw their shadows first against the far wall – three sets of wings; two tattered and one, smaller, but completely intact.   
“What the hell are you?”   
The demon stared at Dean with unconcealed horror.   
Realization dawned on Castiel.   
She turned back to the man as if she had every second the universe held to offer… because she did -Because Grace could be stolen, and it could be split… and once in a great while… it could be shared. Stepping forwards, Cas raised one slender hand, Grace boiling inside of her, ready to smite, ready for its celestial intent… with Dean shadowing her every movement.   
“Hell…” Cas said, a vicious undercurrent in her tone coloring the words darker than they already were.   
“Hell is for amateurs. You happened across the Almighty.”  
She let the Grace loose, and so did Dean. Light burst from their palms twisting and weaving together – powder blue and a barely perceptible tinted beam, shot through with shades of green – weaving together and uniting into a magnificent white that hurled the creature who would have raped a human girl against the far wall of the alley, pinning him there and incinerating the demon that was inside. Once it had been burned out of existence, their lights dimmed and extinguished.   
Castiel’s eyes returned to the same blue they’d been that morning. She looked over, shocked into slow motions, in time to see Dean collapse against the ground. Cas screamed his name and begins to run towards him… but she never made it. Because her legs turned boneless beneath her and the parking lot vanished into a dark tunnel she was falling down.   
When she hit the bottom, the world went well and truly dark.

(Notes: Sorry for the short chapter! I promise there will be more to come!)  
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